


On the House

by spiritualmachines



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Language, M/M, One Shot, POV First Person, Smoking, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritualmachines/pseuds/spiritualmachines
Summary: Excerpt:“Poor baby, having to fight off all the pretty girls.”Prompt: PillowPhoto:Click





	On the House

**Author's Note:**

> *This story is from Zac's POV.

The cool, burning liquid slid down my throat easily as I relaxed into the chair. As I surveyed my family members talking, laughing, and dancing all around me, I smirked at the knowledge that not a single one of them would ever suspect that the liquid in my glass was anything other than a soft drink. I’d kept my drinking a secret from them for a year, and I didn’t plan on changing that now.

Jessica—my younger sister—getting married before me was an occasion that called for a little rum and coke. Okay, a _lot_ of rum and a little splash of coke. Her wedding day was supposed to be a celebration, and I had tried my best to be happy for her… I really had. However, as the evening wore on, it became more and more difficult to keep up the pretenses, and I eventually retreated to a table at the far end of the reception hall to wallow in alcohol instead.

I had lost count of the number of relatives who had asked me when it was going to be my turn. Isaac and Mac had shoved me to the front of the dance floor when Joe tossed the garter, in a not-so-subtle hint for me to catch it. They expected me to play along. After all, it was _supposed_ to be my turn, wasn’t it? Everyone seemed to think I should have settled down by now.

I was beginning to think the universe had skipped my turn entirely. Jealousy really wasn’t and had never been my style. But feeling sorry for myself? Oh, I was a fucking _pro_ at that.

Over the years, I learned to keep my insecurities to myself. Admittedly, I tended to overcompensate for my lack of confidence with a cocky, condescending attitude that effectively kept people at a distance. If I never let anyone get too close, then no one would ever figure me out; no one would ever _hurt_ me. I much preferred my misery without company.

First it was Taylor, then Isaac, and now Jessie. One by one, my siblings were pairing off and marrying the loves of their lives so that they could have children and carry on the Hanson family legacy. I had yet to even come close to finding someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but that was a bitter pill my family refused to swallow. Instead, I received hearty claps on the back from the men, telling me I’d “wife up” soon enough, and was forced to listen to matchmaking advice from the women who all knew someone I just _had_ to meet.

I would rather top my morning pancakes with broken glass and crack cocaine than be set up with another sweet girl from church whom my family deemed to be perfect for me.

“Has anyone seen Zac?”

The voice of my youngest sister, Zoe filtered into my ears, and I slumped even lower in my seat, desperately hoping to avoid her searching gaze. If it wouldn’t have drawn even more attention to me, I would have pulled my jacket up over my head to start the classic game of _if I can’t see you, you can’t see me._

“Hey! There you are!”

Shit.

“What’s up?” I asked, hoping she just wanted to show me her latest selfie and wouldn’t linger long. I had drinking to do and a blackout to hopefully fall into.

“You know Jessie’s friend Mindy, right? The one with the purple flower in her hair?” Before I even had time to think about who she was referring to, let alone respond, Zoe plowed on enthusiastically, lowering her voice only slightly to convey that this was some sort of conspiracy. “Well, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but she thinks you’re _really_ cute and has been waiting for you to ask her to dance all night. Except you aren’t dancing at all… you’re just sitting here all alone in the corner like a total dork.”

Oh, hell no. There wasn’t enough rum in the world. 

“Waiting for a man to take the reins is awfully antiquated, don’t you think? If she really wants me that badly, she should take matters into her own hands,” I muttered, draining the last of my drink. “Anyway, my bladder just asked me to dance, so it gets first dibs.”

Standing up, I pressed a distracted kiss into her hair so that she wouldn’t think I was blowing her off. Then I ducked into the bathroom, wishing that I could disappear. 

After relieving myself, I splashed some cold water against my face and stared at my weathered reflection. Why do people do that, anyway? Splash water on their faces? It’s not like water has the magical ability to fix their problems or make awkward situations go away. Shaking my head, I stepped away from the sink and pondered my next move.

When the bathroom door opened, I held my breath, fearing that Zoe was on to me and she’d sent someone in after me. As my eyes fell upon Taylor, I let out the breath I’d been holding and felt myself relax. Even though he’d been the first of us to get married and have children, he had never pressured me to follow in his footsteps. Unlike everyone else, he was content to let me move at my own pace and for that, I was eternally grateful. 

“Is Zoe out there?” I asked, leaning against the wall as he finished up.

“Not that I noticed. Why?” Taylor asked, shooting me a curious glance after zipping up his jeans and moving to the sink to wash his hands. 

“She’s trying to hook me up with some girl... one of Jessie’s friends. Apparently she thinks I’m _really_ cute and has been wanting to dance with me all night,” I said, unable to disguise my disdain. 

Really, it wasn’t anything against Mindy. She was probably a perfectly nice person. I simply wasn’t interested. 

“Poor baby, having to fight off all the pretty girls,” Taylor joked as he shook his hands dry, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. “But hey, I was just about to head outside for a smoke. Wanna come with?” 

I rolled my eyes at his insinuation, but was nevertheless thankful that he’d given me an out. Taylor rarely asked questions, but he always seemed to know what I needed. I nodded to let him know that I planned on tagging along, before yanking a paper towel out of the dispenser nearest to me and shoving it into his hands. He always made things so difficult for himself, yet everything seemed so easy for him. 

As we exited the bathroom, Zoe caught my eye and motioned toward the dance floor. But before she could ambush me again, I gestured to Taylor with a faux-apologetic shrug, mouthing, _He needs me, sorry._

Her face fell, and for a split second, I almost felt guilty for disappointing her. Almost. But then I thought, fuck that. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting to have control over my own love life instead of letting my sisters play matchmaker for me. They meant well, I’m sure, but I refused to be a pawn in their silly little game. 

In the shadow of the building, I collapsed against the wall and discreetly retrieved the flask I had hidden in my pocket when Taylor was paying more attention to his pack of cigarettes than me. My nerves were shot, and I hadn’t yet had enough to achieve the coveted numbness I was aiming for.

“Sometimes I think you’re the luckiest fucker I know, Tay,” I remarked, inhaling the fresh outdoor air before he had a chance to light up. 

“Why’s that?” he mumbled incoherently around the cigarette, arching an eyebrow at me. 

“You got them off your back early. You have a great wife and even greater kids. Yeah, I’m sure it’s not all it’s cracked up to be or else you wouldn’t have started smoking again, but at least the family is off your ass. You seem happy enough. I don’t know,” I shrugged, sighing heavily. 

“Yeah, well, don’t let the shiny exterior fool you. Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said in that signature tone of his, one that contained equal parts flightiness and wisdom.

Speaking of shiny, his eyes were exactly that as they blazed like bright-blue beacons in the darkness. 

I brought the flask to my lips again, no longer caring if he saw me. If anyone could possibly understand my need to drink, it would be Taylor. I sank to the ground slowly and leaned my head against the brick building behind me, trying to get comfortable. 

“Is anyone ever really happy, or is life just a series of bullshit events that we’re forced to suffer through until we die?”

I sounded more cynical than I felt, but I had grown to truly _hate_ weddings. 

“Oh, it’s 99% bullshit,” Taylor answered around a puff of smoke, lowering himself down onto the concrete beside me. “The trick is learning how to be happy with the bullshit.” 

Reclining slightly, I let my head rest against his thigh as I closed my eyes.

“Have _you_ learned how?”

“No,” he replied, playing absently with my hair as he spoke. “But if and when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Why can’t everyone just be like you?” I murmured. I leaned into him even more on instinct, soothed by the way he was touching me. “This family wouldn’t feel like such a prison if they all followed your lead. Happy or not, you’re the best thing in my life. Plus, you make a damn good pillow.”

“Do I?” he asked, chuckling softly without pausing the motion of his hand. “I’ll have to add that to my resume.”

“Does that mean you’re available for hire?” I asked, tilting my head up to look at him with a smile. “‘Cause I could use a good night of sleep for once, and everyone knows the key to that is a good pillow.”

“When it comes to you, I’m always available,” he said, his voice growing quiet as our eyes locked.

If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that we were having a _moment_.

“What’s the going rate?” I asked.

I found it difficult to look away from him. It really was amazing how easily he was able to calm me down. It was no wonder he made a good father with such a gentle touch and bright, unassuming gaze. 

“Although money is preferred, I also accept payment in the form of chocolate and booze. I’ll make an exception for you, though,” he said. “Tonight, my services are on the house.” 

Despite what he’d just said, I reached for the flask resting between my legs and extended it to him. 

“What about Natalie and the kids?”

“I was up all night trying to convince Viggo that there weren’t any monsters under his bed, or in the closet, or deep within his soul; meanwhile, Nat slept like a baby. She said she owed me one,” he replied with a wink. 

Grasping Taylor’s hip, I pulled myself up and looked him in the eye once more. Then I carefully removed the cigarette from between his lips and placed it between my own, taking a long drag before slipping it back into his mouth for him. 

“Is it wrong of me to hope _we_ sleep like babies tonight, and she doesn’t?”

“If it is, then I’ll see ya in hell,” he joked, drawing one last puff of smoke from the cigarette before letting it fall to the pebbled ground. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I declared, standing up and pulling him to his feet along with me.

If Taylor had meant what he said, then I wanted to take advantage of every free minute. After making my way through the crowded parking lot, I paused at the car, leaning against it as he made his approach.

“I’ve never known you to do anything for free. What’s in this for you?” I questioned as I tossed him the keys, knowing he was in far more decent shape to drive than I was. “Am _I_ going to owe you one?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

With that, Taylor flashed me a grin, making me feel lighter than I had in quite some time. I didn’t know what the rest of the night held, but I was sure of one thing—I was guaranteed to sleep better than I had in years.


End file.
